Around this period a year ago, I ended up on a TV programme in the company of three performers. There was a Ghanaian-origin rapper, a well-known pop singer, plus a renowned mezzo-soprano. The coldest season was upon us. The previous evening, I’d been at an old friend’s 60th birthday, packed into a local bar's party area in the Surrey region. It had been a good night, but now, just for something to say, I pondered how one could prevent getting a cold with many partygoers were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. Incidentally, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, while others are quieter? A question for another day.
The Response of the Singers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists backstage at the TV studio did two things. To begin with, they edged away from me. Next, they started a passionate debate regarding ways to stay cold-free which naturally enough given their line of work was a major concern for them. I get that, but I have skin in this game too – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I lack official documentation, but I firmly believe it. My illnesses drag on. My nasal passages are more congested, I have a more irritated throat, my coughs are harsher, more persistent and seem infinite. My relatives, alert to the initial throat noises which herald the coming storm, either kick me out of the room or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my teammates behind the scenes became familiar with the indicators. “Earpieces out!” the director would shout to the staff to avoid auditory overload, overloading their audio gear.
Handling Stuffy Noses
Regarding my nasal issues, don't get me started. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the sharp aroma of warm spirits my mom advocates … they provide temporary relief before admitting defeat. Nothing is quite as sad as the sound of a Birmingham accent uttered with blocked nasal passages. I mean, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, which isn’t always a good thing. In my first year away at university, away from my mum and her medicinal brandy, the janitor in our dorm showed me kindness. “I know exactly what you need, you dear. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was extremely kind, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the uncooked, peeled onion she offered me in bed. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, except for upsetting my stomach and making my breath smell terrible.
The Singer’s Cold Avoidance Regime
Therefore, I loathe winter illnesses and am convinced prevention beats cure that onion-based or otherwise, don’t work. I paid close attention then along with the rapper and the pop star as the singer detailed her prevention methods. With seasonal gigs on the schedule, she was highly committed. She commanded us to apply hand sanitiser on the hour, every hour during the cold months as far as I could deduce in addition, specific measures were necessary during festivities. Prior to socializing, she suggested a few applications of a nasal spray through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Drastic. I like it. And, listen to this, she required a repeat application after the party with another couple of squirts of the same stuff.
What Happened Next
I adopted the method. And I have to say I remained cold-free. There were drawbacks: the many containers I acquired, lost, bought again, located, etc. Plus the frustrating time you realise you’ve sat on the little vessel of hand gel stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Still, all a price worth paying. As the cold season approaches once more, I'm stocked up with her prevention arsenal. I’m ready for battle.
